


Coupling

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Friendship, Holidays, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 06:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5616601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was smart and handsome and she wanted to kiss his mouth.  Then she wanted to wander into traffic.  Then she wanted to kiss his mouth again…if she wasn’t dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coupling

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in the Losing a Whole Year high school universe.

“Rafi?”

“Yes?” Rafael looked up from his physics homework. His mother was standing in the doorway of his bedroom.

“Your friend Edward is on the phone.” She said.

“I don’t have any friends named Edward.”

“Well of course you do because he's on the phone. He asked to speak to Rafael Barba and when I asked who was calling he said, Edward ma'am. At least he has respect.”

“Um, OK.”

Rafael got up from the bed and left the room. His mother was walking back toward the living room so he followed her. There were only two telephones in the Barba house; one in his parents’ bedroom and the other on the wall in the kitchen. Guess which one he and his sister never used? It was crazy sometimes to see his sister sitting on the floor, chattering away with one of her little friends about this or that for like an hour. Rafael had no idea what 14 year old girls talked about but his sister Camilla had a PhD in it. His mother had placed the phone on top of the stove so he picked it up having no idea who to expect on the other end.

“Hello.”

“Hey Barba, its Ed…Ed Tucker.”

“Oh, hey Ed.”

There was an awkward silence after that. Rafael didn’t know how Ed Tucker got his phone number. It really didn’t matter that much but they weren't exactly friends. They ran in the same social circles, which made Rafael laugh a bit because it was usually guys like Ed who were trying to beat the shit out of him. Not recently, but in elementary school he was on the hit list of plenty of local bullies. 

Cuban, black, white, Puerto Rican…every kid under the rainbow wanted to kick Rafael Barba’s ass. The white boys were especially sadistic and Ed kinda looked like those boys would look. Those military clipped haircuts and heavy metal band tee shirts. He wasn’t a douche, Rafael knew that, but that didn’t mean sometimes he wouldn’t look at the kid and have a flashback.

“I don’t wanna keep you or anything; I'm calling because I'm desperate.”

“Is Liv OK?” Rafael asked. His stomach dropped and his heart leapt. Was something wrong? Was he going to have to get from South Bronx into Manhattan because something had happened to Olivia? Rafael planted his feet hard on the linoleum because he wanted to break out into a run.

“No, Liv is fine…this is something else. Christmas is in a few weeks and I have no idea what to get her. I don’t want to go too mushy, you know she hates that shit. But if I don’t get her anything she’s gonna kick my ass. I want to get her something but I have no idea what to get. I've tried thinking about it but how the hell am I supposed to know what to buy?”

“Don’t you know what she likes?” now Rafael was leaning on the doorframe. This was a clueless guy phone call. Sadly, Ed wasn’t the first person who had called him about something like this over the years.

“She likes music…the weird British emo stuff and hard rock and even that trippy electronic shit. She loves tee shirts and boots and I know she wants a leather Fonzie jacket but those are expensive. Liv likes stuff; girls like stuff. I really need your help. Did you buy her anything?”

Rafael didn’t have much money but he had bought Liv a Christmas gift. He actually bought her two; a pair of those big ass earphones so she could listen to her records in peace and a mood ring. It was real sterling silver but he got it for super cheap from a cool little store that his Abuelita’s friend ran on Jerome Avenue. If he had any money left after thinking for something for his sister, he planned to hit the used record store to see if they had any old Girlschool records. Liv was just getting into them. Rafael wasn’t sure telling Ed that he bought his girlfriend cool gifts was a good idea so downplaying it was probably best.

“I just got her some earphones.” He said. “For her record player.”

“Yeah, that’s cool. I saw this necklace that I thought might be nice but it’s a little pricy. I can afford it but do you think if I get her something like that she’ll freak out?”

“Ed, I know that you and I don’t know each other that well but I'm just gonna say this. There is no way that anyone would freak out as much as you and Olivia assume they would. It’s just statistically impossible.”

“She worries that I’ll freak out about stuff?” Ed asked. 

He knew that Liv and Rafael were close. There was a tiny part of him that was jealous but Barba was into guys so there was nothing to worry about really. Liv loved the kid like a brother and shared with him like he was her brother. That also meant that he would probably get no good Liv Intel from Barba so there was no use asking, indirectly or otherwise.

“Yes. If you like the necklace and think she will too then I say you buy it. Just don’t go overboard. Don’t go broke shopping for her because it'll piss her off. Don’t try to impress her because you don’t need to do that for her to care about you. Get her something that makes her smile. By the way, and you never heard this from me…she loves that Mr. Big CD. It’s cheesy as hell but you were thinking about her when you got it. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Right…I hear you. Thanks for telling me that, it makes me feel better. I just have one chance to get this right and that’s a lot of pressure.”

“Then don’t think about it like that.” Rafael said. “Don’t let the commercials and the movies and the store windows intimidate you. If you follow your heart, your gut, and make it about Liv then it’s gonna be fine.” 

“Right, OK, cool. Well, thanks Barba; I’ll see you around.”

“OK. Bye.”

Rafael hung up the phone. He went into the fridge for some Kool-Aid and walked back out into the living room. His mother was sitting on the couch watching the television on low volume and sewing some of his sister’s sweaters.

“You were on the phone long enough for me to assume that you do have a friend named Edward.” Lucia said.

“That was Liv’s boyfriend. I usually just call him Ed and he's never called me before.”

“Olivia Benson has a boyfriend?”

“I told you that we were just friends, Mami. She and Ed have been dating pretty heavy since the spring.”

“Hmm, well that might be for the best. Olivia might be too rough and tumble for you.”

“I'm not even going to ask what that means.” Rafael shook his head and walked away. 

He was not having that conversation with his mother. It might seem normal, and even obligatory, for some teenagers but his mother was on a fishing expedition. If not Olivia then it had to be another girl Rafael had his eye on and Lucia needed to know. There was nothing to tell her. He didn’t want to admit to a bit of smug satisfaction in knowing that there was nothing to tell her while she thought the exact opposite. 

A tiny part of him wished he could tell his mother how much he loved Trevor Langan. That was never, ever going to happen. He would rather listen to her complain about him never dating anyone until he found a nice girl to bring home. Most days it wasn’t so bad. Others Rafael was sure his mother looked at him and regretted not picking what was behind door #2.

***

“Look at the shape of the back of his head.” Rita said as she ate a tater tot. “It’s the perfect target to lob something round at. You should give me your orange.”

“Really?” Rafael raised an eyebrow. “We’re doing this today?”

“He got a 98 on that Latin IV test, and I got a 96. He just had to rub my face in it.”

“To be fair, George says good morning to you and you think he's rubbing your face in it.” Rafael said.

“Because he is! And I don’t want you to be fair…you're my friend. My friends don’t have to be fair. I am four points away from tying him for #1. That means I'm five from overtaking him. We have four classes together this year. I'm forced once again to be student council vice President. I know he's going to get into Stanford.”

“You don’t even want to go to Stanford.”

“I applied though.” Rita said. “I applied so that I make sure he knows that I got in too.”

“O-K. Look, c'mon, let's spend one lunch not planning the downfall of a classmate. I know, he gets to you. But I need you to breathe before you pop a blood vessel. If you end up hospitalized than George Huang will not have to worry about not being #1.”

“I never thought about it that way. He might be trying to kill me.”

“That wasn’t what I meant Rita. You go on proms with him, you two kinda hang out…how can you hate him like you do?”

“As a human being George is fine you know. He's bearable as boys go. As a high school student, he's competition. No hard feelings or anything, I just have to be better than him. He keeps a straight face but he's thinking the same thing I am. We’re both keeping our enemies closer. I'm sure at the 20th reunion we’ll all have a good chuckle about it.”

“Well for the time being let's work on something else. I think you're doing an excellent job of striving to be better.”

“I really am.” Rita nodded. “Yeah, OK, I’ll calm down. You're right.”

“There's a first time for everything.” Rafael smiled.

“Absolutely, Barba. Keep trying to reach those unattainable goals.”

“You got it.” He gave her the thumbs up.

“There is something pressing that I need to talk to someone about. I've been working through it on my own but still find myself hitting a wall.”

“What's up?”

“OK, so like two weeks ago I was in the music room practicing for debate. I like going in there because the acoustics are great and I always imagine myself giving my acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention. Anyway, I was in there working on the debate against single sex colleges, which you know I don’t agree with. It was a struggle. Then he walked in and interrupted me.”

“Who, George?”

“No…pay attention we don’t have forever to talk about this. It was Bayard Ellis. Did you know that he plays drums and sometimes comes to the music room to let off some steam? I didn’t know either but I found out. 

“I didn’t want to be bothered with him and surely wasn’t about to let him steal the room from me. I know he's one of the smartest kids in our class…top 5. He asked what I was doing and I told him. Then he started talking to me.”

Rita had known Bayard since freshman year, everyone knew him. He was nice and smart and had plenty of friends and acquaintances. She'd never really talked to him before beyond pleasantries or in class. He just wasn’t on her radar, but that didn’t make him different from most of her classmates. Except that day in the music room when he was talking about her debate subject. 

She was mesmerized. Rita didn’t know how it happened or how to stop it. He was smart and handsome and she wanted to kiss his mouth. Then she wanted to wander into traffic. Then she wanted to kiss his mouth again…if she wasn’t dead. 

She remembered arguing against a few things he said and they went back and forth with banter and intellectual conversation. And she definitely wanted to kiss his mouth. There were butterflies in her stomach and a warmth between her thighs she had never felt in her life. And if Rafael told a soul what she was telling him then she would kill him. 

The ache for Bayard, everywhere on her body, was like a virus. Was this normal? Did kids her age experience this often? How in the hell did you survive dealing with such horrific things? How did you get important things done like schoolwork? It was impossible.

“Did it feel this way with Trevor?” Rita lowered her voice when she asked.

“Pretty much.” Rafael nodded.

“And this is normal?”

“Well geez Rita, haven’t you ever had a crush before?”

“Not really.” She shook her head. 

“You’ve never seen a guy or girl and though ‘I could stand to see that person in their underwear’?”

“Nope.”

“Not even like Tom Cruise or one of those Hollywood guys?” Rafael asked.

“Tom Cruise is like 5’4”, what's so attractive about that?” Rita asked.

“O-K. So this is your first time?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I just thought it was never going to happen. I thought I might be asexual, or something.”

“What's that?”

“It’s when you don’t have sexual feelings. You might like people, as friends, but don’t feel sexual attraction. It affects a very small percentage of the population…like 2%. I was OK with it, I had other things going on, and then he ruined it.”

“So you hate him for liking him?” Rafael asked.

“I need to find a scenario where kissing him would be appropriate.”

“You could ask him out.”

“I'd rather run topless down the hallway.” Rita said.

“Thank you for the imagery. Look, I'm gonna help you because that’s what friends are for. Do you trust me?”

“Concerning this, not really.” She shook her head.

“Good, then I have you right where I want you.”

***

Rafael sighed when he felt Trevor dig his fingers into his scalp and gently massage. Like a cat eager to be loved, he could only push his head further into his boyfriend’s touch.

“Are you really reading?” Trevor asked. “Or do you want to come up here and pay attention to me?”

Rafael would’ve gladly thrown _East of Eden_ into the fire to give Trevor a little attention. He didn’t say it but he did put the book down and climb onto the bed. That was the best worst idea ever. Kissing became all that mattered. Stroking Trevor’s face, gripping the expensive cotton of his uniform shirt, breaking away breathless only to dive back in for more.

“Your mom is home.” Rafael whispered before Trevor’s mouth again commanded his attention.

“My mother never comes into the room when you're here. She's afraid she’ll see me touch your butt.”

“That’s not comforting.”

Trevor grabbed Rafael around the waist and rolled them on his full sized bed. Rafael was breathless and it showed. Trevor was taller and stronger and hung like a horse; he was always turned on in his presence. It made him think about Rita. 

He was happy for her, experiencing something this grand for the first time. Rafael had always had crushes, longed for someone. He didn’t know what it was like to be pure and innocent in that respect. Leave it to Rita to be peevish about the entire thing.

“You're preoccupied.” Trevor looked up from kissing his neck. “You're never preoccupied when I'm kissing your neck.”

“All my friends are crazy.” Rafael replied.

“And this has your preoccupied? It’s not as if you didn’t already know that.”

“But it’s crazier than usual.”

“Tell me all about it.” Trevor took a deep breath and rested his head on Rafael’s shoulder. 

If something was on his mind then Trevor wanted to hear it. As much as he loved making out, he loved listening to Rafael talk. One of his New Year’s resolutions was going to be to get Rafael to talk on the phone more. They wouldn’t be able to do it every night but a couple of times a week would be nice. 

Trevor couldn’t be affectionate at school, it wasn’t allowed. There were these amazing moments at his house but with after school activities and other commitments they usually only saw each other about once a week. He needed more. Trevor wasn’t sure if Rafael needed more but he needed more.

“Ed Tucker called me on Monday night and asked me what he should get Liv for Christmas. I have no idea, I'm not her boyfriend. He didn’t wanna get her something too mushy but also didn’t want to get her something you buy a distant cousin. I guess I'm now an expert on Christmas gifts. Then this afternoon at lunch, Rita told me she had a crush on someone.”

“Ooh,” Trevor smiled. “Who?”

“I can't tell you…she'd beat the hell out of me. But it’s like her first crush and its killing her. Leave it to Rita to make it horrible.”

“Sometimes crushes can be pretty bad. I remember when I first saw you and you were so fuckin cute. I thought to myself that it was never going to happen; that feeling sucked.”

“Are you kidding me?” Rafael guffawed. “I'd been trying to make it happen since sophomore year.”

“I had no idea at the time. I just knew the boy with green eyes would never be interested in me.”

“I'm very interested in you, Trevor Langan. I should be reading Steinbeck but I would much rather lie here and smell your hair. Your hair smells fantastic.”

“You smell fantastic.” He tickled Rafael’s belly.

“Oh my god, don’t do that…I am sooooo ticklish. Do not do that.”

“I love that you're ticklish.” Trevor was kissing him again. He was grateful the bedroom door was closed as he deftly unbuttoned and unzipped Rafael’s slacks. In a matter of moments, he was stroking him. “I love that you giggle when I touch you.”

“Jesus.” Rafael sucked in his breath and closed his eyes. _Please God_ , he prayed, _don’t let Mrs. Langan come in. Please, please, please God_. “Ohhh, Trevor…”

“Hmm?” he kissed the side of Rafael’s mouth.

“I have nothing of interest to say. Just don’t stop doing what you're doing.”

Why would Trevor ever want to do that? He pulled down his boxers and pants in one swift motion and went down on him. Was it probably a dangerous thing to do with his mother in the house? Yes. Did Trevor give a damn? Not really. 

Most 17 year old boys were horny toads and he was no exception. It wasn’t often he got his boyfriend all to himself and they could be someplace private. Trevor would've gotten them both naked if he could but a bit of decorum was still required. It was all that he could manage.

***

There was a 45 minute student council meeting and then Rita went to her locker to get all the books she would need for homework tonight. While there she did her best to gather up the nerve to go by the music room. Every day for two weeks she’d casually walked by after classes ended but he hadn’t been there. Maybe he showed up later. Sometimes she would wait a few minutes but he never came. 

Today it was raining and she wasn’t going to do it. Rita tried to just go down the stairs and out the front door. Her heart wouldn’t let her. So cursing herself, she went around the corner to the music room. There was no drumming, she was sure she would've heard it from the third floor. 

But something in her told her to peek in the window and see. He was in there. He was in there sitting at the drum kit and Nate Davis was with him. She hated that kid. He was a junior but was always hitting on freshman girls. 

He had a guitar across his chest, strumming it absently while talking to Bayard. She didn’t want to interrupt. She surely didn’t want Nate to know that she was talking to Bayard for any reason at all. So she turned and walked away. Halfway down the stairs to the front door of the school, Rita stopped.

“Son of a bitch.” She rolled her eyes and walked back to the music room. It was now or never. If she didn’t do this Rita was sure she would never forgive herself. Better to just get rejected and get it over with. She opened the door and walked in. “Hey, Bayard.”

“Hey Rita.” He looked up from his conversation.

“Are you busy? I need to talk to you for a minute if you can.”

“Sure, I can.” He got up from the drum kit and started walking toward her. 

She walked out of the door and hoped he followed. There was no way in hell she was talking in front of Nate Davis. She really hated that kid.

“What's up?”

“Are you in a band or something?” she asked.

“Not really. Well, Nate is and they might need a drummer for some Saturday gigs coming up. A couple of them even pay money if you can believe it. I'm sure his band sucks and I'm not really into rock music but it’s a band. What guy doesn’t want to be in a band?”

“What kind of music do you like?” Rita asked. Yes, ask him about his interests. Seventeen magazine said boys can't get enough of talking about their interests.

“When I'm playing drums I'm kind of old school…I like big band and swing. When I'm just listening at home it’s mostly jazz and soul. Funk music is good too and I can admit to always enjoying Bob Dylan.”

“I like Bob Dylan.”

“He’s the coolest. What's up?”

“Do you like football?” she asked.

“Not really.” Bayard shook his head. “I'm more of a baseball fan, it’s the math geek in me. Why?”

“I don’t like football either so I thought while everyone is at the game on Thursday afternoon maybe you and I could go and get some coffee or something.”

“You probably don’t need more coffee.” He replied.

“Oh, I…”

She didn’t even know what to say to that. It was likely true but Rita didn’t have a quick response. She'd gone over and over the conversation in her head and never once accounted for that response. Why was the stupid, adorable boy not sticking to the script? Yes, the script was entirely in her head but boys never had more than like three answers for things. Right?

“Maybe we should do burgers instead. Do you like burgers?”

“I like burgers.” A smile spread across her face.

“OK. We can meet by the front door and then walk over to Clifford’s together. I find their food tolerable.”

“Oh my god, so do I. I use exactly that word…I use tolerable. Am I talking really loud right now?”

“A little.” Bayard smiled.

“I gotta go.” She turned and literally ran away.

“See you.” Bayard held up his hand to wave at her back. He just smiled, folding his arms and watching her run away. After a little laugh, he went back into the music room.

“What was that about?” Nate asked.

“Rita and I are cool.” Bayard said as he went back over to the drum kit.

“Seriously? I didn’t think anyone was cool with Rita Calhoun. She's kind of a…”

“Don’t do that, Nate, Rita is cool. She just wanted to talk for a minute. Do you want to try to get through one song, to see if we can do this?”

“What songs do you know?” Nate asked. “Are you a Bon Jovi fan?”

“No.” Bayard shook his head.

“OK, look,” Nate took a book from his bag. “This is a book of popular pop-rock songs that teens love now. Can you read music?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. He probably read, played, and did anything associated with music better than Nate Davis. Well maybe not…Nate would definitely make a better lead singer douche than Bayard ever would. He had mediocre talent at best but he fancied himself cute, white, and mostly played a guitar. In some instances, especially when the band was good, that was enough.

“Well run through it and we can meetup on Thursday. My guys can play almost anything in that book.”

“I can't do it on Thursday, I have plans. But we can definitely meet up on Friday. Is Friday OK?”

“Yeah, I can do Friday.”

“Cool.” Bayard grabbed his backpack, slipping his drumsticks inside and zipping it up. “I gotta go. Hit me up in the cafeteria tomorrow; we’ll talk music.”

Nate nodded as Bayard left the room. He went to his locker on the second floor to get his coat. Grabbing an umbrella before closing the door, Bayard headed to the stairs and then down to the main exit. He was shocked to see that Rita was in the main hallway of the school. She hadn’t walked out of the door yet.

“Is it raining too hard?” Bayard asked.

“I usually carry an umbrella in my messenger bag but it wasn’t in there this afternoon.” She replied. “Logically that means I took it out but I don’t remember doing that. I don’t want to get rained on.”

“I've got a big umbrella, if you want to share. I can take you where you need to go…I won't even charge you for gas.”

“I live on the Upper East Side.” Rita said. 

“OK, let's go.”

“Isn't that out of your way?”

“Since I live in Hamilton Heights,” Bayard replied. “Yes. But I don’t mind.”

She smiled as they walked out of the door and Bayard held open the large green umbrella. It wasn’t exactly pouring but the rain was falling at a steady pace. He walked a little slower than Rita usually did, it seemed as if he enjoyed taking in all the things going on around him. Rita was usually trying to avoid them.

“Can I ask you what your top three schools are?” she asked the question at the first red light.

“Columbia, Morehouse, and American. What are yours?”

“Wellesley, Sarah Lawrence, and Barnard.”

“Which one are you going to choose?” he asked as they walked across the street.

“Some people think it might be silly to stay close to home but Barnard is my #1 choice. I wouldn’t be mad if I got into Wellesley and I could get out of the city. New York is the greatest city in the world to so many people but it’s my hometown. I don’t want to be here forever. So college is actually the best time for me to go away. You’d go all the way down to Atlanta?”

“My father is a Morehouse grad.” Bayard replied. “So is my grandfather, some great-uncles, uncles…Ellis men go to Morehouse. We are a tradition-driven family.”

“Oh God, so are we. I hear you.” Rita shook her head. “My dad went to St. Anne’s and he was a legend there. Every day I live in his shadow.”

“You're doing fine. You're top 3 in the class and surely will get into all the schools you apply to. On extra-curricular activities alone you're a college recruiter’s dream.”

“My social skills are lacking a bit. I don’t normally say that out loud…my weaknesses aren’t for consumption by the masses.”

“I like the way you talk.”

“You do?” Rita looked at him.

“It reminds me of a Jane Austen novel almost. Not in its actual language but in the way you use the words. You talk poetically, fantastically. Walking under this umbrella I imagine we might be in a version of early 20th century New York.”

“The time of Edith Wharton.” Rita said. She loved Edith Wharton.

“Yes, that’s it. It’s not Jane Austen, its Edith Wharton. That’s the writer I was thinking of.”

Oh wow, oh wow, he thought she talked like an Edith Wharton novel. There was no way that Rita was ever going to get the smile off her face now. He was smart and cute and was walking her what could be countless miles all because she was too silly to remember her umbrella this morning. Boys really were awful and amazing all at the same time.

“I can just take the train.” She said. “I’ll take the 6 and then walk a few blocks. The likelihood of catching my death isn't very high, even with the colder rain.”

“Are you sure?” Bayard asked.

“I’ll be OK.”

“Then we’ll walk to the train.”

They walked the three blocks over to the train not saying much on their way. Rita hoped the silence didn’t mean that Bayard could hear the butterflies in her stomach. She wanted to talk to him about Wharton and Dylan and why he would ever want to play in a band with Nate Davis when he could possibly start his own. She wanted to know what Hamilton Heights was like and what his favorite book was and where he fell on the debate over _ER_ or _Chicago Hope_ …these were important questions. Her nerves made her silent for the most part.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said when they got to the train station. People were rushing in to protect themselves from the elements. Rita would've been OK with them standing out there all day.

“Yes.” Bayard smiled and nodded.

“In the age of Wharton, a woman repaid a gentleman’s kindness with a kiss on the cheek. You, Bayard Ellis, are a gentleman.”

Rita leaned to kiss his cheek, wiping away her nonexistent lipstick. She smiled and quickly dashed down into the subway before he could say a word. Bayard just stood there for a while, the only sound entering his brain was the rain beating down on his umbrella. A girl had actually never kissed his cheek before. He'd been on dates, like many high school boys, but he found he wasn’t interested in most of the St. Anne’s girls. 

His parents encouraged him to date children of their friends, they wanted him to meet a nice black girl, but Bayard mostly wasn’t what they were looking for. He was in that strange place in his teen years…a good looking kid but not much of an athlete. He wasn’t described by anyone as a nerd or geek but was quite intelligent. He loved books and music, thought he would study to be a doctor or a professor, like his parents. Bayard wasn’t cool and he knew that, was OK with that…he had his own cool. 

And now apparently he met a girl who seemed to see it. He thought he might be crazy when he couldn’t stop thinking about Rita Calhoun after their mini-debate in the music room that afternoon. He talked to his mother about it as she was much smarter in matters of the heart than he was. Claudia Ellis encouraged her son to pursue the feelings, though he largely ignored her out of fear. It was nice to see that maybe Rita was braver than he was.

***


End file.
